I am Human
by mishatippins
Summary: When Castiel is human, what else does he have to live for?
1. Cure Me

_Imagine tho if Meg came back and she found out Cas was human and she consented to being cured so they could be human and grow old together and make babies and punch Metatron in the face_

_I am Human Series: | Cure Me | Marry Me | Love Me | _

She didn't exactly know what to expect.

She was out one night, laying low, when she saw the Fall. Thousands of angels, all bright as stars, were hurtling towards the planet like eternal fireworks.

She watched as halos burned out around their heads, and watched as their wings flamed out to ash.

And there was only one thought she had going through her head.

_Castiel. Where is Castiel?_

It didn't take her long to track down the boys. For one thing, Kansas was a liable choice to start looking. And for another, there were rumors about that strange, locked up place being renovated and becoming active for the first time in years.

_Too easy, Deano. Try being more subtle next time._

Sam looked shocked when he opened the door for her, and she flinched at how red his eyes where, how sad his face was, and how broken she could see that little soul inside him.

Dean said nothing when she came in, only slightly ignored her. And then there was Cas.

His halo was gone, he looked just like he did when they first met in Lucifer's base._Except those eyes,_she thought._They look nothing like him._

Castiel blinked at her, walked towards her, and hugged her with the most pathetic look on his face.

He told her about Metatron's betrayal, about thinking she was dead, and about being human.

There was sadness and loss in his voice, until he told her the one thing she'd been waiting to hear for three years.

"Crowley is gone from Hell," he told her. "We actually have no idea where he is."

"He's still alive?"

"Sam and Dean discovered a way to…cure demons. To cleanse their souls and make them mortal."

Meg was sitting across from him at the table, and he watched her shift uncomfortably. "Gotta say, Cas, it's a little weird not seeing you cosplay as Columbo anymore."

He looked down at the grey shirt and sweatpants he favored. "It's…uncomfortable now."

"So you go with depressed desperate housewife attire?" she was always soft with him, strangely. He liked the way she softened up for him, how she seemed curious about him and how she was always listening.

He smiled at her joke, not getting her joke entirely but still getting the concept. "I guess."

"So, curing demons…How's it work?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"It's… interesting," she pursed her lips thoughtfully. "I was going to lay low, away from angels and demons, kill Crowley for almost killing me. But now he's gone…and there's no angels…no purpose. No Lucifer, what else is there but two idiots and a broken feather brain?"

He considered that. "Not much, I suppose."

She tapped her nails on the table. "Clarence… Cas," she corrected herself. "I have nothing left."

"So you're considering… curing yourself?"

"Why the hell not? It's not like I've got things to do. And it beats dying. or torture."

Castiel sighed. "If you do this, you may have to be stuck with me. Powerless and in ruin. It's not exactly the…most fun thing."

"Who said being stuck with your ass was a bad thing?"

—

He took her to the same church they took Crowley. Dean said this whole thing smelled like a trap, even after Meg's insisting, but he helped Cas set up shop, and chain Meg to a chair.

"Are the chain's really fucking unnecessary?" she hissed as he clamped the final one around her neck.

"Watch your mouth, you're in church," Dean's absent mindedness he had with her was starting to irritate Cas. "So uh, about the blood…"

"I'm going to do it, Dean."

"You sound like Sam sometimes, you know that?" the hunter huffed, shooting a final look at the demon before leaving. "Call when you fix the bitch."

"Rude."

"Meg, not now."

"What did he mean by blood?" she asked, trying and failing at hiding the slight panic in her voice.

"In order to cure a demon, they must be injected with righteous blood," the ex-angel walked past her, turning to enter a confessions cubicle.

"Not to be a little pushy, Clarence," Meg called as he shut the door. "But I'm pretty dang sure that's gonna take a while for you."

—

_The first injection_

"Shit!" Meg hated needles, mostly because Crowley liked to use them at times when he was torturing her. But Castiel was gentle, trying to pierce her vein.

"Meg, stop moving."

"Can't I just drink it?"

"That's not how it works."

She squirmed when he finally injected her, wincing at the slight pain.

"I'm sorry, I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"You're doing a hell of a job there, Asshole."

—

_The third injection_

__For some reason they started to hurt less. Maybe because her meatsuit's skin was starting to numb, or because after every injection Cas seemed to get better at it.

"You shouldn't be a doctor," she mused as he finished, turning to take a seat in the chair in front of her.

"I have no plans to."

"What are your plans?" she asked. "Find a lady friend, or a manfriend, what ever you're into?"

He smiled slightly. "That's what Metatron told me to do."

"You're gonna run off and be a cute little housewife?"

"I don't know."

"You have to have some kind of plan?" she pressed. "Come on, 're gonna waste whatever's left of little Jimmy's life on those two?"

"I don't know how to be human, Meg," he said. "All I know is what they do, Sam and Dean."

"Point taken," she paused. "What about your old lady?"

"Pardon?"

"Emmanuel's wife?"

She watched as he lowered his head. "Emmanuel isn't who I am. I cannot be him, as much as I cannot be God, or Jimmy Novak, or even…Castiel the angel."

"You're taking this surprisingly well."

"I wish I wasn't."

—

_The seventh injection._

It was getting dark, and Castiel was tired. He didn't sleep the night before, instead he was pondering about his celestial family. How would he recognize them again? How would he know if they were even all alive?

_What little of us there are left._

"You know what amazes me?" Meg breathed, her sudden voice making Castiel jump. "Even after Meggy died, I don;t know why I kept that name. Maybe because that's what stayed, how the boys recognized me, but even Lucifer called me that."

"You don't seem to mind it."

"To be honest I don't. And they never even asked me my real name. Not that it matters, I guess. Meg is me. I am Meg.

"You never asked me either."

"I never thought about it," he admitted. "I knew it wasn't your name. But it was what came simplest.

"Eloa."

"What?"

"My name is Eloa," she was laughing slightly. "I'm like a fucking nursery rhyme for angels. The story of little Eloa who off and fell."

Castiel was silent.

"You name isn't just Castiel either."

"I'm called several things in different places."

"I always thought Cassiel was awful," she mused. "The angel of Solitude and Sorrow of the Fifth Day. Too righteous."

He found himself thinking about that, Castiel, Cassiel, Clarence, Cas, Emmanuel Allen, even God. Names he didn't know he had and didn't know he wanted.

"Weird, how names are thought to define a person. All I get is bitch and whore.

"Even you've called me an abomination, once or twice."

"I'm sorry for that."

"Cute," she closed her eyes. "That an angel apologizes to a demon for calling her names."

He winced at the word "angel", and she noticed.

"I'm sorry too, Clarence."

—

_The final injection _

She was_ sleeping. _Castiel envied her, to be honest. They started late and ended late, Meg pressed back against the chair as he uncuffed her, watching her stir as he gently carried her in his arms.

"Castiel?" her voice squeaked.

"Yes?"

"How am I supposed to feel right now?"

"I assumed you would know more on that front than I would."

She said nothing but instead fell back asleep. With awkward movements he dug his cellphone from his pocket and dialed Dean's number.

It was strange. He assumed Meg could have survived as a demon still, but she wanted this, and for the life of him, he couldn't figure out why.

_Human._

__—

_The next day_

__Castiel had left her on the couch in the Lobby but was surprised to see her curled up under his arm when he awoke.

He almost didn't remember falling asleep, and he most defiantly didn't remember her coming in…unclothed.

She had her back pressed against him, her blonde hair was in a mess and her face was covered by her arm.

He wanted to move and the same time, he didn't. He felt the circulation cut of in his arm under her head, but he ignored it, rolling closer against her and pressing his face against her.

Humanity wasn't all bad.

At least he had someone to share it with.


	2. Marry me

Castiel had struggled with the question for weeks.

He had seen TV shows, read books, and listen to songs all about that one question, and they made it so easy. They made it simple, and the more he thought about it the more it made him panic.

_It's a simple question,_ he reminded himself. _Do it_

He had Sam take him to a local pawn shop, he still couldn't drive, and still had no means to learn, and he could feel it staring at him like a cat wanting it's pray.

"Are you sure?" Sam had asked on the drive back home, and Castiel didn't have an answer then.

_And I still don't have one now._

He felt like Frodo from _Lord of the Rings_, a book series Dean had given him to try and curb the ex-angel's depression, a reluctant ring bearer, and he could most defiantly feel it mock him from inside it's tiny little red velvet box.

She wouldn't be back soon anyway, and he had time to think it over.

But what if he never went through with it? That would be a burden, since he spent what little money he actually earned winning a poker game with Dean and a few other patrons at a bar (he assumed it helped that he truly didn't know how to play), and he wasn't sure he'd be able to get that back. And the fact that he kept his plan in strict confidence, even to Dean and Sam.

Nervousness, it was a sensation he preferred to do without.

And so instead he waited, until he heard the rumble of the Impala outside the front door several hours later.

She and Dean were arguing again, something he was used to now and Sam was watching therm bicker from the sidelines, occasionally stifling a laugh from his brother getting flustered by Meg's clever comebacks.

"At least I didn't get my ass handed to me again!"

"At least I didn't turn into Daphne again in our little Scooby gang and get held hostage!"

"Meg I swear to God you're lucky Cas is here because I would so-"

"So what, Winchester?"

It was the gist of their usual spats, the recently un-demoned woman, however, was more passive than aggressive, but she still didn't let Dean get away with a lot of things, which Castiel admired.

Dean shot Meg an angry look before dumping his duffle on the floor and storming off to his room. "I'm gonna kill her!"

"Dean…" Sam called after him, hoping to cool his brother down.

"Well, now that that's finished…" Meg hissed as she stripped off her jacket, the skin tight black tank top she wore doing little to calm Castiel's nerves.

He liked that they'd built a relationship over the last few months, Meg was almost instantly adjusting to being human and it helped Cas figure himself out a lot easier. Both mentally and…well…physically.

"So you missed out on the hunt. Again."

"I was… preoccupied."

"With what? Castiel you haven't left the bunker in days."

"Actually I have."

She gave him that look that made him shudder, the look where the former demon could tell that he was lying.

"Bullshit."

He swallowed. "Meg…I…"

"Clarence we talked about you talking fifteen years just to say a word."

"I got you something," he said sheepishly, Meg practically relishing in his embarrassment. "It's…a thing humans do."

"If it's not good sex I'm probably not going to be interested."

"It's…"

She huffed and turned away from him, Castiel cursing himself as she lost interest in anything he had to say.

"Meg…"

"What?"

He found himself fumbling over words, before he just dug the little red box from his pocket and thrust it at her.

"What the hell is that?"

"I think I'm been asking the same question for a week."

She took it from him, still eyeing her former angel as she picked at the sides, prying it open and looking at it.

He expected her to yell at him, a usual thing she did when he was "being human", but she was surprised when he saw her face.

"Castiel…"

"I thought it would…make things simpler?" Castiel tried his words, least he wanted to do was sully the moment, as he usually did.

"Are you fucking trying to propose to me?"

"This seemed much simpler when practiced with Dean."

She was looking at him, before a strange grin broke her face. "You sweet bastard."

He smiled awkwardly, as Meg pressed against him fro the first time that night, before grabbing his chin, pulling him down and kissing him.

"Is that a yes?"

"Why the Hell not?"


	3. Love Me

Castiel swallowed.

Today was the day. Today was the day he'd accomplish a goal, something he'd always been curious about, but knew he'd never get to.

Until now.

Dean was surprisingly supportive. Not that he didn't expect his friend to be, but Dean had seemed honored when Castiel asked him to stand beside him. Sam, on the other hand, was a bit more concerned when Meg asked him to stand beside her.

It was a small ceremony; neither of them had many friends outside Sam and Dean, and they didn't want to do anything too extravagant.

But neither of them had experienced a this before, and so Cas was surprised when she wanted the traditional ceremony.

He also hadn't seen her all day.

Concerned, earlier, he almost panicked, afraid that Meg had decided to cancel on him, but Dean helpfully assured him it was normal, that it was tradition, which helped soothe Cas's worried soul.

Soul, strange to have a soul.

_"Castiel…"_

It was the voices again. He heard them from time to time, usually when he was alone but now he could hear them as the tiny church readied for the wedding.

_Go away._

_"Cas…you need to wake up."_

_I am awake._

_"Cas please"_

_Don't ruin this day._

They never fully responded to him, and there were nights he often tried to communicate to them,but not today.

_Not on my day. _

And then he heard the music, and watched her walk in.

Castiel had always considered her beautiful, even when he saw her true face under her stolen skin. But he'd grown accustomed to her face, her essence, and now he was amazed at how she looked.

He'd been wondering where Sam had been taking her the past month.

When she stepped off beside him felt his stomach drop. Nervousness again, his most hated emotion.

_"Get him up!"_

The ceremony seemed to pass like wildfire, and next thing he knew he found himself in the backseat of the Impala, drunk, tired, and kissing his new wife.

"Hey, knock it off back there!" Dean hissed, afraid for his precious car as Castiel started kiss her harder.

"Jesus Dean we're not fucking," Meg muttered when she finally managed to get Castiel off her for a minute. "Not yet anyway."

"That's nasty."

Dean dropped them off at a hotel Castiel had booked, Dean barking orders on how to get back home the next morning and Castiel too focused on Meg's breasts to listen to him prattle on anymore.

Which was why it seemed they progressed faster than usual, he was already in the room before he knew it.

"You wouldn't touch me for weeks before this and then you get drunk and hitched and now you're all over me?" Meg asked as Cas helped her from her dress, she was a bit less drunk than he but overall the alcohol had a tipsy effect on her as well. She hadn't felt that in a very, very long time.

"I was unsure how you would receive me," Castiel pressed his face on her chest, her clavical just under his nose. "You're unpredictable."

"That's how I roll," for some reason that made Castiel slightly uncomfortable, but Cas banished it.

"_Cure…get…cure!_" the voices stated again as Castiel lowered Meg on the bed.

"Shame," Meg mused as she slid down Castiel's trousers the ex-angel helping her absently with a blind hand. "You look nice in a bowtie. Should have traded that in for the tie years ago."

There was something powerful in sharing this with her; they'd had sex before but somehow it was something completely new, completely human.

The alcohol wasn't a helper anymore, it was a hender, Castiel was starting to get that tired feeling. Meg, on her part, was amused by it.

"What's the matter, Clarence? Ain't got your-oh," she breathed when he slid into her, his blue eyes shut as he racked against her, his face planted in the nape of her neck.

Meg gasped as she felt his hands trail down to her upper thigh, herlegs seeming to instantly wrap around his back.

_"Sam!"_

Ignoring the frantic voices he was hearing again, Castiel shifted all his attention on Meg, feeling her under him and feeling the cut of her nails on his back. He wouldn't be able to heal those wounds anymore, and he doubted he'd ever want to.

He felt happy for the first time in a long, long time. _Since I thought I was going to save Heaven…_

"Jesus, Cas," Meg sad suddenly.

"Not exactly, though maybe better."

—

He awoke, for the first time in a long time, rested.

He was flat on his back with Meg on his chest, and absently he was scratching at the purple swell she left on hi neck.

All and all, he was delighted with his life.

_And there's still a little bit more left of it… _


	4. Lose Me

_"Shit shit shit!"_

_"Where….at?"_

_"I'm…here!"_

Over and over he heard the voices, it seemed as time went on they became worse and worse. Sometimes he could hear them completely and mostly they were fragments he heard from time to time.

Most days he could banish them to the depths of his mind but other times they were too loud to ignore.

Which was why they woke him one morning, sending him flying up from his bed, gasping.

In the corner of his eye he saw Meg stir beside him, and after a while he felt his heart rate return to normal.

"Nightmare?" she asked him, not even bothering to roll over and face him.

"Yes."

"I'm gettin' real tired of it, Cas," she murmured, burring her face in her pillow. "fourteen years, Cas."

"I know. I'm sorry."

He assumed the voices would go away. It had been fifteen years since the fall, and he assumed any neurosis would be gone.

But he was still plagued with it, still haunted and still wanted to end it all.

Meg helped a lot, as did their children. His oldest would be starting high school soon, and his son was growing taller every day.

Children, an angel and demon had children.

Of course their offspring were human in every way possible, and he was proud of them. They would get to live normal, human lives, and they deserved it.

_But they'll never know what true blood they have in their veins._

"We need to go soon," Meg mumbled from her side of the bed, slowly pulling herself from the sheets to eye her husband. Castiel had changed a lot over the last few years; he was thinner, his eyes were heavier, and his brown hair was starting to grey. Meg had to admit she liked it, but it reminded her how her vessel was aging as well.

And they we're gonna die. _How stupid is that?_

"Sam and Dean can wait," he muttered, pressing his lips to her neck. There were times he wished that Sam and Dean wouldn't call them anymore; back then they lived with them, Cas had said to call him anytime they need him or Meg. But now they were in their own home, with their own children, and there was always something they needed to do.

"He'll kill you."

"He's not the first."

Meg chuckled and rolled over to meet his face, accepting his kisses until their alarm blared again.

"I'll check on the children."

"Good boy."

—

Castiel, perhaps like most stay at home parents, worried about his children. Especially when he watched them leave for school.

He sighed. It was strange, how he rarely thought about Heaven anymore.

_I'm happy. I deserve to be happy._

"Ready?" Meg asked as she grabbed their duffle off the dinning room table, tearing Cas's attention from the window.

"Yes."

—

"Alright,m so we figured out where Abbadon is, now all we gotta do is gank her ass," Dean's voice had deepen even more as the years passed. He started looking older, looking like a man who'd indeed been to hell and back.

Sam was more the same; he had cut his hair slightly shorter and he was wearing it in a ponytail. His eyes were sadder, but he seemed to be doing better than he had in years.

"Are you sure taking down the queen is such a good idea?" Meg asked as she sat down around the Letter's table. "I know Abbadon, she wont back down."

"She's our last shot," Dean said, his voice void of emotion.

"So you're doing the last trial."

"We either get rid of the last big player, or we shut it down."

"This plan smells wonderful. How do you think we're gonna get her to submit?"

"Easy," Sam said. "We summon her."

—

Castiel didn't like this at all. Abbadon was strong, probably stronger than Crowley. And it felt weird looking at a demon with no hands.

They had burned them, tortured her, and now Abbadon was receiving the injections.

It was going too smoothly and Castiel felt a strange chill roll down his back.

They had finished the injection when she begun to laugh.

"You boys_ are_ stupid," she hissed as Sam backed away from her, and when she closed her eyes he could have sworn he felt her power surge all around him.

"We should stop," Castiel said quietly, backing away from the demon.

"No, we've come this far."

"Dean, Cas is right, we're-"

Meg's words were drowned to a gasp as Abbadon's eyes burned black, the entire church shaking under their feet as the demon laughed louder.

"Like I need hands to kill all of you."

Fire erupted and Castiel felt a hard piece of wood smack him hard in the back, and then nothing.

—

_"Cas…"_

_"Cas!"_

_"Castiel!"_

The voices woke him again. The church was silent, except for a few chirping crickets and the sound of splitting wood.

_Where?_

His eyes opened to chaos. The entire church was in ruins, from the corner of his eye he could see a body -Dean's, he presumed- ripped in half and chained to the chair. Sam was floating out from the small lake just outside the ruins of the building, but Meg was no where in sight.

He struggled to get up, feeling several ribs and his arm broken, and frantically scavenged for his wife.

He tried calling out her name; but all his voice could cry out was a dry whisper.

And then he saw her, skin blackened and peeling from her bone. She seemed smaller now, broken. Human.

"Meg…" he rasped out, putting his hand to her blackened hair, only to have to crumble in his hands.

_This was how it always seemed to be,_ he thought. He would find something, hold onto is for dear life, and have it ripped from him. _Except those voices…_

He was on his knees and weeping now, in the midst of some stupid hunt that went wrong, the sole survivor of chaos.

His best friends were dead. His wife was charred rubble. He didn't even remember the names of his children. The only thing that seemed to replace his grief was anger.

_"Cas…source…"_

"Yes," he whispered to his voices. "To the source."

Fifteen years had gone by since they last attempted to close the gates of hell. Since the Fall.

_Go to the source._

If he couldn't close Hell.

He was going to close everything.


	5. Kill me

The entire world was collapsing.

The voices were louder, changing into the voices of his two closest friends. They were his only link to the world.

His nameless children vanished. His world was broken, and he was going insane.

In stead of the quiet pacifist who awoke from him the last time, he was indeed crazy. Or at least, he assumed he was.

It took him a long time to asimble the ingredients. Everything was coming together all at once and he was going to stop it.

He tried going back to his home, but it was gone, no trace of it ever existing. His entire Kansas town was reduced to a black spot on the map, the entire world falling apart.

_It has to be you,_ he hissed inwardly.

_It was always you._

Abbadon wasn't Abbadon. Meg wasn't Meg. Dean wasn't Dean.

He knew what it was now.

It was a game.

_"Cas wake up damn it!"_ The voice that sounded like Dean hissed.\

"No, I have to do this."

_"Cas…did you just-"_

"I have to do this."

"I have to do this."

"I _have_ to do_ this_."

He held his old sword in his hands, the glinting silver dulled by rust and dirt. He had buried it away with Jimmy's coat and suit, keeping every bit of his past life behind him. Until now.

"It's finally here."

"I can go home."

"I want to go home."

"Castiel!"

He held the bowl in his hands, setting it on the trunk of the Impala before he dropped his match in, watching the herbs burst into flames, and listening to the sound of flapping wings.

"Metatron."

The last angel looked the same as ever, feigning surprise as he spun around to face Castiel. "Brother, you look…well."

"I look like stomped over shit, thanks to you."

Metatron shrugged. "We're all entitled to our opinions. Like the hair."

Castiel was fighting to hold back a snide smile. "I'm so glad you kept your essence, instead of ripping it out like you did mine."

"Someone had to stay behind, in case Father came home.

"And I see you actually did what you were told."

"They died, Metatron. All of them. My family, my wife. I don't even remember my children!"

_"Who's he yelling at?"_

_"I don't know, but he's pissing me off!"_

"Shut up!" Castiel hissed, then he turned back to Metatron, who was eyeing him with a confused look.

"Castiel," Metatron's voice softened. "If I knew forcing you into this would-"

"Would what? Make me crazy, Marv? Because I've been crazy for a very, very long time. Ever since Egypt, ever since the American Civil War, and ever since I pulled Dean from hell.

"And there's no way for me to redeem myself," he was seeing what he'd been waiting for in Metatron's vessel's eyes…fear. "Except for this."

"You can't kill me, Castiel," Metatron backed away, and for a split second Castiel feared his plan would be ruined. Until Metatron backed into the perfect spot.

"Why don't you stay?" The heat of the fire ring was satisfying, and the smell of burning oil reminded him of that night in Lucifer's hotel room.

"Cas, you know better than this."

"Now why would I kill you?" Castiel paced at the front of the flames, his sword close by his side. "I wanted you to see."

"See what?"

Castiel only smiled, insanity glinting in his human eyes, before flipping the blade around and plunging it into his chest. For a brief second he saw Metatron try and advance towards him, but then he saw nothing.

Relished nothing.

Tasted nothing.

Felt nothing.

Loved nothing.

_"Cas!"_

—

Air sucked in his lungs as Dean smacking him hard against the face again, screaming at the ex-angel to wake up. Everything came at him in an instant and everything left at the same time.

"Where…"

"Cas, you got attacked," Dean informed him, still kneeling down. "We thought we lost you."

"The gjin…"

"It tackled you, man. Luckily we killed it, but we left the cure back at the motel. Sam's dumb move."

"Hey," Sam growled a warning.

Dean sighed when he saw the freaked out look on Cas's face. "Look, man, no matter how good it seemed, it wasn't real. This is real."

"But it wasn't good, Dean," Castiel lay his head back on the floor, his eyes wide, almost impossible to close. "It was a nightmare."

"That was to keep you from waking up," Sam said as he helped Dean get Cas to his feet.

"Just forget it and move on, we need to go home."

"It was about Meg," he said suddenly, and he watched as Sama nd Dean's faces changed.

And then Dean grabbed one of his shoulders. "Look, I know how much you wanted it to be real, believe me. But Cas…It wasn't."

"I'm actually glad it wasn't," the ex-angel sighed. "You have no idea how horrible it was."

Dean frowned, claped Cas on the back. "Let's go home."


End file.
